Walking Away From The Truth
by Dean'sNerdyAngel
Summary: A one-shot of the immediate aftermath of Dean's death in "No Rest For the Wicked". Bobby comforts Sam, and Sam longs to free Dean from Hell. Starts right after "NRFW", and ends at the funeral, where Sam leaves to do what he did when Dean was in Hell.


**Warning: Some very sad crap.**

**Takes place RIGHT after Dean dies in "No Rest For the Wicked". Bobby comforts Sam, while he himself tries to overcome his own grief. Sam devotes himself to get Dean out of Hell. And then he leaves, to do what he did during the time Dean was "downstairs". Slightly AU. (I don't even know if there was a funeral). just a one-shot. **

**He's Gone**

Bobby Singer had only just finished the job of exorcising all the demons that had been waiting by the holy water sprinklers. And as he walked up the steps, he dreaded to see the result of the fight.

Stepping over a dead body of an old woman, he walked through the dining room, and to two white doors where he heard crying. Hesitantly, he opened the doors wider.

Bobby wasn't prepared to see what he saw.

Sam was holding a body.

The body was dead.

He was covered in blood, obviously from a hellhound. His green eyes were staring, sightless, at the ceiling. One hand lay on his bloodied and torn chest, and his other hand was limp on the floor.

_Oh Dean…_

Bobby was frozen, numb at the sight.

Sam looked up slowly, his tears streaming down his face, and shook his head sadly. Sobbing, he brought Dean closer to him.

Bobby knew he had to say something. Anything.

"We should take him outside," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, Sam. I really am."

Sam looked up again, the sadness in his eyes deeper than ever.

Bobby, fighting his own tears, walked, almost stumbled, over to Dean, and lifted up his upper body as Sam took his legs, and they carried the body outside in silence to the car.

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"Sam, he died a hunter. We should have a true hunter burial for him." Bobby said, taking another sip of Scotch.

"We're going to bury him. Not cremate. Dean will need a body when I get him out of Hell." Sam said darkly, staring at nothing.

"Yeah? And how are you going to do that?" Bobby demanded.

Sam was silent.

"Sam, don't you dare sell your soul. I will not let you, and Dean wouldn't want that. He'd give you shit about it, actually." Bobby was too depressed himself to be as firm as he usually was.

"Bobby, I can't let him rot in Hell. I just can't." Sam said.

Bobby stared at Sam's face. It was exhausted, and full of anguish. He could almost see the hole in Sam's heart as well as he could feel his own hole.

"Sam. Dean's gone. I'm sorry, but he's not coming back. So please, do me and Dean a favor and…" his voice trailed off.

"And what?" Sam said, whipping around, suddenly angry. "Just forget about? Act like it never happened? That I'm not alone in this damn war?"

"No. It can't be forgotten easily. But what you can do is _let him go_." Bobby replied, trying to keep calm.

At that moment, Sam, instead of raging, he collapsed on the couch and sobbed.

Bobby, surprised, felt his own tears forming once again. So Bobby did what his heart told him to do.

He walked over to Sam and hugged him tightly.

"I couldn't save him…I wasn't strong enough. He's dead, and I couldn't save him…" Sam sobbed.

"Nobody could have." Bobby said firmly, his voice trembling slightly.

_No one could saved him…_

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It was a week after the death of Dean Winchester.

And, due to Sam's protests, they were going bury the body.

The gathering at the funeral was small.

The only people there were Sam, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and a few other hunters who had bothered to come.

The group was silent as they buried Dean. It wasn't an awkward silence, however. All of them were honoring Dean, remembering the times that they had seen him, talked to him. They were all grieving, especially Sam.

Once his body was buried, the hunters that had come said their respects and then left, leaving only Ellen, Jo, and Bobby who talked quietly as Sam stared at the cross that marked Dean's grave.

"I'm sorry Dean. I'm so sorry." He whispered, as a few tears dribbled down his cheeks. "I should've been able to save you. But I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough. But I'll get you out of Hell, Dean. I'll find a way. I promise you. I won't let you rot in there."

With that, he stood up, and started to walk away.

He turned his head over his shoulder to look at the grave again, his head filled with images of Dean. He seemed so _close_, like he'd pop out of nowhere and try to make a joke to ease the tension. But he wasn't.

Sam nodded to Ellen, Jo, and Bobby, who were staring at him, and then Sam walked to the Impala, got in the driver's seat and closed the door, and drove away, not looking back.

_He's gone…and he's not coming back. _

_I'll find a way to get him back._

**Man I'm such a angst junkie. But I think that went well. What do you think? Review please! **


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